break of dawn, we were roaming wasted in darkness
by xshedreamsinredx
Summary: Damon/Caroline. "There are two dilemmas that rattle the human skull: How do you hang on to someone who won't stay? And how do you get rid of someone who won't go?"


_**I am going on a one and a half month hiatus from now on but I thought it would be a nice gesture to leave you guys with a parting gift. Thank you for all the lovely reviews for Something Pretty, I hope you like this one too. This one is dedicated to Caroline Elizabeth Salvatore who updated her fic 'Coming Back Home' consistently because I kept on asking her to and was actually cool enough to answer all of my questions. I hope you like it.**_

_**Read and review. I do not own Vampire Diaries.**_

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><p><strong>Gone with the sin<strong>

_"There are two dilemmas that rattle the human skull:  
>How do you hang on to someone who won't stay?<br>And how do you get rid of someone who won't go?"  
><em>- Danny De Vito

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It is a busy night at the Grill and he is searching for a familiar mop of golden hair through the crowd. He spots her easily, of course, with the tedious human she has the misfortune of calling her boyfriend. He has his arm secured protectively around her waist and he finds it ironically amusing that he still considers her to be fragile, like a little rough handling on his part will cause her to shatter into shards of glass. He knows for a fact it won't.

He overhears him engage her in an animated conversation but, like always, her attention wavers and the smile plastered across her face takes less than a second to transform into a frown when her eyes fall on him.

He tilts the glass of scotch in his hand in acknowledgement, sending a devious grin her way and is barely suprised when she turns her back on him, not bothering to reciprocate it.

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><p>At times when everyone is assembled at the boarding house debating yet another plan to trick Katherine, he can't help but let his insecurities get the better of him. He can't help secretly reveling in the knowledge that her relationship with the wonder boy has finally crashed, he can't help the delibrate grazing of his fingers when he hands her bourbon, he can't help the slight brushing of his leg against hers as he moves past her to take the next seat available. She doesn't notice but Stefan, ever the observant creature, does and confronts him.<p>

"Whatever you have going on with Caroline needs to stop," his brother preaches just in time for his weekly sermon. "It is unhealthy."

He merely arches an eyebrow at him quizzically. "I don't think it is your place to tell me where to stop."

Stefan grows alarmingly quiet because he realizes that it really isn't.

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><p>"Everyone needs to stop kissing me!" She exclaims.<p>

He doesn't know if it is the edge in her voice or the visible stiffening of her frame as she complains but he couldn't agree more.

Everyone needs to stop kissing her, everyone needs to stop giving her those love drunk sideways glances, everyone needs to stop getting as touchy-feely with her as they please, everyone needs to stop treating her like she was their to claim and everyone needs to just leave her the hell alone!

By everyone he means Captain America and Scrappy Doo in particular.

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><p>He is already in her room by the time she gets back, body freezing momentarily when she finds him sitting on the edge of her bed. Reluctantly, she drags her feet through the door, hands curling into fists as she struggles to placate her composure. "What are you doing here?"<p>

It doesn't necessarily take a genius to figure out the reason she is inclined to be less than hospitable towards him but that doesn't stop him from pushing it a bit.

"That is not the subject here, Blondie," he drawls out, rising steadily to saunter towards her in a leisurely manner. "The question is _what are you doing_? Werevolves aren't supposed to be treated as pets, you know, they tend to sprout fur."

"It is none of your concern what I do in my own time, Damon." She retorts choosing to ignore his earlier statement, blue eyes hardening in what he assumes is agitation.

"Yes it is," he hisses lowly. "And you are going to stay away from him."

"You can't tell me what to do, you are not my-"

"That is exactly what I am," he cuts her off. "You are going to stay away from wolfie and do notice how that is not a question."

He walks out before he can hear any more of her protests or impractical reasoning.

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><p>"You were with him." He accuses, the mutt's scent lingering in the air and unfurling around him as she stops in her tracks<strong>. <strong>Hot, white anger explodes through his pulsating vessels, overwhelming his senses in a stride only to subside quickly into frightening rage. His brother regards him with uncertainity from across the room and their is little he can do to stop him from grinding Caroline against him and pressing his nose to her neck.

"You were with him" He snarls, voice booming uncharacteristically with finality, disdain colouring his words. Stefan is at his side attempting to pull Caroline away from him to no avail.

She looks up at him from underneath her long lashes, eyes filled with panick. "Damon, you are hurting me..."

"I told you not to be involved with him but you didn't listen," he says through gritted teeth as he releases her. "Now, whatever happens, it is on your head."

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><p>The next time he sees her, it is at Tyler Lockwood's funeral. She is clad in a modest black knee length dress, looking dull and cursed with sorrow as she evidences Matt Donavon deliever a rather heart rendering eulogy in the honour of his friend's memory.<p>

The weather shifts from windy to biting cold with streaks of sunlight piercing through the dark, gloomy clouds as they bury Tyler. He stays at a respectable distance, watching the minister perform the last rites from a far off corner.

He hears the familiar echo of approaching footsteps and turns around to face her. She stares at him with a pained expression and when she finally speaks, her voice is hoarse with choked sobs. "How could you do this to me? How could you?"

He remains impassive, lips set into a straight line. "I did warn you."

Tears cascade down her cheeks unrelentingly and she knots her hands into the fabric of his black Varvatos shirt ushering him closer than before only to scream hysterically.

"I loved him," she cries. "I loved him but you.. you.."

He doesn't offer her any words of cold comfort or apologies because he simply doesn't believe in them. However, he does let her pummel him with her fists weakly until she is worn out enough to collapse in his arms, out of breath and full of dread.

"Why?" She asks, voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you do it?"

In response he holds her tightly, afraid that his selfish reply will make her abandon him. "Because you wanted me then, you should want me now."

Three days later, she leaves Mystic Falls behind to formulate a new life for herself, without any clear intention in mind he does too.

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><p>When he eventually crosses paths with her in Venice twenty years later, he considers it to be a sheer stroke of luck rather than an outcome of his stalkerish fascination. The maker's pull that is supposed to have withered and died suddenly uproars to life, propeling him towards her and it is more than he can endure.<p>

He kisses her roughly not bothering to veil his neediness. Pouring the pent up frustation of years of distance between them in the kiss, he takes what he gets and demands for more as he pushes her up against the wall of his hotel room.

"I hate you." She repeats breathlessly, in between the moans, tugging at his shirt urgently.

"I know, it hardly matters." He points out, swooping down to latch his mouth to the side of her neck. She lets him slide the strap of her already tattered dress down her arm and is not entirely suprised when it glides off of her body and pools down at her feet within a few seconds. He places hot, smothering kisses along the length of her clavicle and stops at the junction where his faint bite mark sits proudly.

He feels her tremble uncontrollably with fright that only he seems to inspire in her and strokes the slight depression in the smooth folds of her skin tenderly as a token of reasurrance. She gasps loudly when he presses his lips to it gently, hands going to wound around her waist. "Why doesn't it?"

He captures her gaze with his own, cerulean eyes twinkling with understanding and he presumes she already knows the answer without him stating it. "Because I am all you have just like you are all I have."

He crashes his lips against hers and she corresponds fervently with acceptance. It takes him twenty years, two months, thirteen days and fourty nine hours to find her back in his arms, surrendering afterall.

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><p><strong><em>So, what do you think? Might not be my best work but I tried hard. DamonLover86 left me a review for Something Pretty saying heshe would like to watch me write more romance/angst stories which got me started in the first place. So, this one's for you too, I hope you enjoyed it. Also, I have a poll on my profile page about my upcoming fics (for after the hiatus), I am conflicted about which one should I post first, I have put summaries on the home page and I'll be really glad if you guys help me out._**


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